Who Let the Dog Out in KACL?
by Precambrian Studios
Summary: It's Frasier's birthday, and Martin decides to treat his son. However, Eddie has other plans...


**Who Let The Dog Out in KACL?**

_YET HE STILL CAN'T EVEN TRAIN HIM TO STAY_

"Y'see doctor Crane," said the deep, drawling voice on the other end of the phone line that Frasier (who wasn't in particularly good spirits today) couldn't _wait_ to hang up on; when Roz said that this caller had a problem with his dog, he had been hoping that the pooch in question had kicked the bucket. _That _would have at least been straightforward. "I'm afraid that if I don't get my dog the operation," the caller continued, "his…._condition _will spread to the other dogs at the park. Couple of those guys are my pals, and I don't want them to disinvite me from weekday football parties."

Frasier let out a small cough and said, "Well, ah, Doug, I'm afraid that I do not believe that your dog humping the legs of other men is necessarily a sign of...ah...homosexuality."

"Ya' sure, doctor Crane?" Doug replied. "Because he seemed to be really liking it….gah! Get off me, you filthy mutt!" Frasier could hear the barks of what sounded like a particularly large dog on Doug's end.

Frasier cut off the call and pushed another button on the console sitting on his desk, now addressing his audience. "Yes, well, while Doug re-evaluates the meaning of "man's best friend..." he took a sideways glance at the adjoining window to gauge Roz's reaction, hoping that she'd at least crack a smile; instead, to his mild disappointment, she was absorbed in filing her nails. He turned back to the microphone. "...I would like to quickly tell all our viewers at home that Delizioso Pasto, Seattle's oldest Italian restaurant, will unfortunately be closing in two months. I would like to encourage anyone who has not been to do so before it's too late; their ravioli special is simply _divine._" His mouth was already watering at the thought of it. _Another one of Seattle's finest eateries going out of business. It is as if the universe is trying to drive me to fast food. Or worse. Daphne's cooking._

Frasier heard a rapping sound, and turned in his chair to see a pudgy man in a bowtie waving his fingers effeminately at him from behind the glass window in the recording studio's door. Swiftly turning back to the microphone, Frasier said, "And, here to delve even further into the restaurant's history, I turn you all over to the cordial custody of Gil Chesterton. This is Dr. Frasier Crane, wishing you all good mental health."

As Frasier removed his headphones, he pushed another button, ending his program and transitioning to a commercial. Gil walked in, smiling as always. "Why, _thank _you, Frasier, for that _lovely _introduction!" he cooed.

"Mm?" Frasier grunted absent-mindedly as he packed up his things. As if he'd been poked, he jumped slightly and turned to face his colleague. "Ah, of course, Gil."

"Are you all right?" Gil inquired. "It appears that a little rain-cloud is dampening your day." He wiggled his fingers above Frasier's head for the sake of emphasis.

It was true; Frasier _had _been feeling blue for most of the day. "Oh, well, I'm just a little disappointed is all," he said.

"What _ever _for?" Gil asked.

Frasier let out a small sigh. "Well, it's my birthday. And my family seems to have completely forgotten. Hasn't happened to me for a long time; it's a little odd."

"Oh, that is _too _bad."

Before Gil could go digress more sympathies that Frasier did not particularly want to hear, Roz poked her head in. "Hey, Frasier," she said before pointing at the glass window separating the recording studio from the hallway outside.

Frasier looked where she was pointing and saw, to both his shock and delight, his brother and father were both outside. They were both waving; while Martin looked particularly pleased to have surprised his son so, Niles presented his brother with a more tepid wave. In his other hand, he held the string to a large silver supermarket balloon that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY on it.

"My goodness!" Frasier exclaimed. He quickly scurried out of the studio to meet his family. "Dad! Niles! What on Earth are you two doing here?" he asked.

Niles eyed the balloon. "Isn't it obvious? We came to wish the janitor who cleans the toilets two floors up a Happy Birthday," he sardonically replied.

Martin, with a big smirk on his face said, "Yeah, you probably thought we forgot, eh?"

"I was certain of it!" said Frasier.

Martin looked offended for a brief moment before his smile reappeared. "Well, surprise! Gotcha! Niles told me about the Delicious Pasta-"

"Ah, Delizioso Pasto," Frasier corrected him.

"Tomato, tomatoe," Martin said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Well, Niles mentioned that the place is closing, and he told me how much you two like the place, so I'm gonna take you there, my treat!"

_How delightful! _"Why, dad! This is so unexpected! I don't know what to say!" said Frasier. Suddenly however, he heard a sharp, familiar bark. Frasier paled and looked down at the source: Eddie, sitting right by Martin's foot. "Except that _he _cannot come."

Shrugging, Martin said, "Sorry, son. Package deal. I take you out to some fancy-shmancy Italian joint, and Eddie eats my leftovers. He ain't leaving."

Frasier sighed. _Once again, life turns out to be too good to be true__. _"Dad, please," he pleaded. "Delizioso Pasto has class. _Atmosphere. _Even if we could manage to get an outside table, Eddie would all but _ruin _that atmosphere."

"Um-" went Niles in a concerned tone.

"They have a choir," Frasier continued, "and they come out and sing Il Canto degli Italiani at exactly seven-o'clock. Oh, it's marvelous."

"Dad-" tried Niles.

"Well, then I'm sure Eddie can just howl along with them!" Martin snapped, frustrated that his son was once again rebuffing a kind offer over something so trivial as Eddie.

"Frasier-" Niles said with exasperation.

"Dad, bringing Eddie to an establishment like Delizioso Pasto," Frasier exclaimed, "would be like bringing Maris to a homeless shelter!"

Niles' jaw dropped at the slight against his wife. "Frasier! And now I don't even _want _to tell you that Eddie has run off!" His eyes widened. "Whoopsie."

"What?" said Frasier and Martin at the same time. They looked around and found that Eddie had indeed run off.

Frasier threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "Oh, perfect! What'd he go and do that for?"

"Um," went Martin, a guilty look on his face, "might've been because I said leave before. I've been training him that because he's been walking into the bathroom with me whenever I want to take a shower."

Sighing, Frasier said, "Perfect. Well, I suppose this shouldn't be all that hard. The station's not the big of a place, we should be able to find that damned dog relatively quickly."

"Yeah, should be fine," Martin reassured his son. "It's not like Eddie can cause any trouble-

Suddenly, and without any warning, all the lights on the floor blinked out and didn't come back on. As the rest of the KACL staff began to shout to their colleagues in confusion in the darkness, Niles' bemoaned, "You just _had_ to say it, didn't you?"

-With thanks to xfilesfanatic for beta-reading! This is my first Frasier fan-fic, so I'm sort of testing the waters here before I continue on with this story.


End file.
